1

The vast space was filled with the fragrance of greenery.

Calling it a botanic garden would only be natural. Although it was indoors, there were areas with exposed soil, now occupied by planted trees from southern countries. Sweet-smelling flowers bloomed riotously in pots, providing a brightly colored feast for the eyes. The air was hot and humid, making the place seem tropical—but truthfully, the space was a bathhouse.

Although the space was fifty meters square, its interior sight lines were cleverly obstructed by vegetation, making it look even larger than it was. At its center stood a warm-water bath made of marble. Judging by its size, pool seemed to be a more apt term for it, but this thing—which even had a sandy shore that resembled a gradual, shallow beach—was just another bath. White steam rose from the hot water within, and the vapor that left the water’s surface filled the space with warmth.

A lovely girl with crimson hair was sitting on the marble edge.

The girl was lightly splashing the water around with her ankles as though she was taking a footbath. After a little while, seeming to tire of this, she twisted around, leaving the enormous bath behind her. Although the space was illuminated, the steam made the air vague and misty, and as she walked through it in her white dress, the girl was an unearthly sight. She was petite, and although there was arrogance in the way she walked, she exuded a kind of elegance. The most striking things about her were her pomegranate-colored hair and eyes, each with a translucent luster.

She strolled along as if she was used to this place, and after a long detour, she emerged in an area that mimicked a white, sandy beach. It was on the opposite side of the bath from the spot where she’d been warming her feet a moment before. Large trees that looked like palms grew there, and an elegant sun lounger had been set up in their shade. A large glass of tropical tea, garnished with a hibiscus flower and sweaty with condensation, sat on a little table beside it. It was a picture-perfect vacation scene.

With her chest still puffed up, the girl raised a slim, bare foot, then brought it down squarely on the young man who was lying stretched out on the deck chair. The movement was casual, but her toes burrowed right into the space between his ribs. The guy bounded up as if he were spring-loaded, then fell back gracelessly, yelling unintelligibly: “Fook, oogk, d’ouch!”

Mirthlessly, the girl twisted her toes two or three times, then flicked the youth’s ridiculous eye mask out of place. He used them habitually in this conservatory, indulging his laziness.

“Owwww. That hurt, Gar-gar!”

“Don’t yowl. Shut up.”

“Did I do something? I didn’t, did I?”

“You sleep far too much.”

“I wasn’t sleeping. I was working, using Soul Possession.”

“You were sleeping.”

“……”

“There, you see? You looked away.”

Stretching out her slender fingers, the girl gently stroked the young man’s T-shirt-clad side (right where she’d just dug her toes in) and broke a rib.

It made a light sound as it went, and it was the perfect thing to divert her mood.

The adorable sensation pleased the girl.

“Gugh, agh. Ow! Seriously, that hurts!!”

“Don’t get flustered, boy.”

Her companion was down on all fours, writhing in pain, and the girl took over his place in the comfortable sailcloth lounge chair.

“You do this every time, Gar-gar. Why are you like that?”

“No Adventurer worthy of the name should whinge so. Even young dragons are slightly more moderate in their remorse.”

“I’m not whining, I’m protesting injustice. Yeesh.”

With a brief gesture, the young man summoned a kikimora and had it cast a recovery spell upon his rib.

The Adventurer’s name was KR.

A former member of the Debauchery Tea Party, he was now the lowest-ranked member of the Ten-Seat Council that governed Plant Hwyaden, currently the largest guild in Yamato. On the Council, whose reign was based out of Minami, he had the byname “Transforming Jester,” and he was a master Summoner.

“You’re as clever as usual.”

“Don’t underestimate Summoners.”

Summoner was one of the magic attack classes. In the MMORPG Elder Tales, their main role was to inflict damage on targets using magic. Sorcerers, the leading magic attack class, personified that role: They were pure attackers who controlled enormous elemental energy and sowed death far and wide. As another magic attack class, Summoners could do similar things, but they were a bit of a hybrid class. So, while their attack skills were typically far below the experts’, they were able to cleverly handle everything, including material attacks, defense, recovery, and support.

The kikimora the young man named KR had summoned was a magical beast, and it could chant recovery spells. Summoners were a highly adaptable class in part because they could “summon” a servant with abilities the caster didn’t personally have.

“I’m neither underestimating you nor complimenting you,” the young woman said.

“For a servant, you’re pretty cold, Gar-gar.”

“Treat me like a servant, and I’ll bite you down to the bone next time.”

“Maaan…”

KR, who’d regained his health through magical recovery, swung his arms around in circles and sighed.

The girl, looking prim, used the straw to take a sip of her tropical tea.

Her lashes threw shadows into her jewellike eyes, and KR gazed at them with a feeling that vaguely resembled heartburn. The girl certainly looked like an incredible beauty, but this wasn’t her true form. He couldn’t let himself be fooled.

“And? How was it?” she demanded.

“How was what?”

“You were using Soul Possession to reconnoiter, were you not?”

“Oh. Yeah. It looks like the steel train’s on its way back.”

“Oho. The thing that stinks of iron.”

Mizufa Trude of Plant Hwyaden’s Ten-Seat Council, “the General Who Dominated the East”: The train in question was a military apparatus that had been earmarked for the special unit she commanded and its ongoing mission.

So that train is returning, is it? the girl thought. She had never been at all interested in human society, but lately, that tendency was beginning to change. After forming a relationship with this young man and observing human society through him, she’d seen that it held mingled joys and sorrows, in its own way.

Most of all, there were individuals with too much internal fire to scoff at. Even though her partner, KR, was nothing short of tragic as far as mental capacity was concerned, this was true of him as well.

Yamato, this Far Eastern island country, was small compared to her birthplace, the Northern Ridge Rus. The Holy Empire of Westlande, which was managing to govern only half of tiny Yamato, could be considered an insignificant organization as well. However, the Ten-Seat Council that controlled it was full of interesting individuals who truly could not be mocked.

These outsiders, the Adventurers, seemed powerful even to her, but the Ten-Seat Council wasn’t made up entirely of Adventurers. Mizufa, “the General Who Dominated the East,” and Jared Gan, “the Great Wizard of Miral Lake,” were People of the Earth, and they looked quite self-seeking. The People of the Earth were nothing to sneeze at, either.

“They’re probably planning to pick a fight with Eastal,” KR noted.

“That’s the East’s organization of self-government, is it not?”

“That’s the one. They’ve got a partnership with Akiba.”

“Isn’t it unwise to make war with the Adventurers? The difference in combat strength is far too great.”

“Westlande may think Plant Hwyaden will save them if they start a war with Akiba. Actually, they’re probably planning to drag us into it under cover of the confusion.”

“Relying on others, hmm? That’s how inconsequential people think.”

“They’re small-timers, but y’know, they’re just really… Sometimes, low-down small-timers are tougher to deal with than heroes.”

The girl folded her arms and considered this. Hmm.

Her partner was an idiot, but he occasionally spoke like a sage.

“Profound words. I’ll take my reward.”

When she gouged at his side with the nails of her white toes, KR stuck out his hands and arched backward, shouting, “Ow! Seriously, I can’t believe you! Gar-gar, you fiend!”

Still, on hearing those words, several things had clicked for her.

“Is that why you told that departing Samurai of the matter on the continent?” she asked.

“What was that about, again?”

“It was the one who calls himself Kazuhiko.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

KR looked away, his response short.

He hadn’t given her much of a reaction, but she didn’t think it was because he wasn’t interested. This young man was shyer than he looked, and he had a habit of hiding his emotions at times like these.

“That’s not the only reason,” he admitted. “Kazuhiko’s always been way too serious… In a different way from Shiroe. If he’d kept that up, he would’ve burned out.”

“Compassion for an old companion, hmm?”

“…I probably wanted to tell somebody about it. It’s too big for one person to keep to himself. If I got too psyched up and my chest exploded, we’d have massive trouble. If my heart stopped, my entrails being eaten would be the least of my worries.”

“Keh-keh-keh-keh.”

The girl’s smile indicated her agreement.

Their adventure on the continent had been quite thrilling.

There had been a battle for the sky the likes of which even she, in her long life, hadn’t often seen.

The protection of dragons, the blood of the fairies, the principle of transmigration, the skills of the great ones: That place had held all four of the grand powers that governed this world. The woman whom they’d supported, Kanami, had certainly had the look of a hero. Those imposing forces had swirled around her, and yet they hadn’t seemed to affect her at all. She hadn’t even been aware that she was receiving support.

“Where are they now, I wonder?”

As she asked the question, the dragon girl’s eyes narrowed softly into a smile.

She’d last seen them in the distant land of Aorsoi, beyond a wasteland, in a place that even she couldn’t easily reach. She’d never spoken with them, but through KR’s Dragon’s Eye, she knew the band of travelers well. Remembering the woman’s group was quite pleasant.

“I dunno. They’re probably headed our way, though.”

Seeming to give up on the deck chair, KR sat down on the white tiles and—without permission—leaned back against her knees. She was on the verge of rebuking him for his insolence, but in deference to the sage words he had once again produced, she decided to lend him her noble legs for a few moments.

“Kanami will come here, aiming for the sun.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“That guy, too.”

“You think well of that man, do you?”

KR shrugged his shoulders: Of course he did. Kanami was special-made. She smashed everything to pieces and let in a fresh new wind. However, it was hard for her to show her humanity there. In that sense, she was too far from human.

The corners of KR’s mouth rose, fearlessly. He was remembering the reunion and adventure in faraway Aorsoi. Elias, Coppélia, Leonardo, and Kanami. The journey of KR’s former friend to Yamato, and the slight assistance he’d been able to give her…

This oncoming tale of adventure might belong to Kanami.

But at the same time, it had one other protagonist, too:

The level-90 Assassin and hero. KR’s friend Leonardo.

It belonged to the man cloaked in the strong, dry Aorsoi winds.

2

The vast sky was high.

Infinitely high.

And the sunlight within it was obstinately strong, shining white and bright.

However, as a result, even though it was still full daytime, the color of that sky was a dark blue that was nearer to indigo than the shade generally termed “sky blue.” It was a hue that seemed to hint at what lay beyond the atmosphere.

At the far edge of this landscape was a range of hazy, perfectly ordinary gray mountains. This was nothing remarkable; these peaks could be seen from anywhere within the surrounding two hundred kilometers.

The sunlight was intense, but the wind held a knifelike chill. Considering the altitude, that was only to be expected.

This place was under the jurisdiction of the Chinese server.

It was the southeastern portion of a vast region known as Kazakhstan in the real world.

It was an ancient town called Tekeli.

In the world of Elder Tales, this area was called Aorsoi. That was the name of the region, not of a country.

This vast inland area was surrounded by deserts, including the Skull Desert and the Desert of Red Sands. Yet even the areas that weren’t desert were nothing but arid, desolate wasteland. There were very few plants that grew thickly enough to provide a place to hide; the greenery that seemed to cling to the ground only covered the gray-brown earth here and there. This was a transitional region between a steppe and a plateau, and although it was impossible to tell just by looking, since the scenery was similar for as far as the eye could see, the altitude was quite high.

Even in summer, the hottest temperature was only a bit above twenty degrees Celsius.

Now, four months after the Catastrophe, when night came, temperatures quickly fell below ten degrees.

There was a reason “Aorsoi” was the name of a region, rather than a country: Very few people were in this immense area.

China’s economic development might be remarkable, but that only meant the wealthy class had grown—the majority of it in a few of the bay areas—and reality was still harsh elsewhere. In any case, real-world western China, Kazakhstan, and the rest of Central Asia were most definitely not densely populated.

Elder Tales had been designed with the intention of having players play on the servers of their native lands, and so an area’s player population was directly linked to the number of Adventurers in that region. In other words, the emptiness of the Aorsoi region was linked to Kazakhstan’s dearth of Elder Tales players.

MMOs were a type of free-market service, and the amount of resources that would be directed toward development reflected the number of users.

Kanan Internet Corporation, which ran the Chinese server, had naturally concentrated its development resources on the coastal areas at the eastern edge of the continent, where it had the most users. As stages for fantastic adventures, the Great Wall and the areas around Beijing had also received elaborate designs.

Meanwhile, Aorsoi had few native users (and they weren’t picky), so it was an undeveloped area that still held only sparse, scattered dungeons and quests.

However, even in a region like this one, the basic terrain was a faithful re-creation of the real world. In the first place, the basic topography in every area of Elder Tales was real-world topography, gathered from laser measurements taken by drones and satellite photos.

The intent of this idea had been to reduce development personnel expenses, but the realistic topographic data and the ease with which it captured user sympathies had made it one of the distinguishing features that had boosted Elder Tales’ reputation.

In Aorsoi, the weather emulator and the Half-Gaia Project—in which real-world Earth was reproduced with its distances halved—had re-created the sights of Central Asia, which had remained unchanged since antiquity: arid land, cold wind, and a sky that was far too blue.

This beautiful scenery signaled an unforgiving natural environment, and in the post-Catastrophe world, its fangs barred Adventurers’ way with a realism that surpassed reality.

“Jesus,” Leonardo muttered. He was lying limply in the center of the ruined town of Tekeli.

This town was his prison.

Leonardo, who had come to this town through a chain of events, had learned that it had a temple. Temples were game-related buildings that functioned as resurrection points, and there was one in every player town.

Adventurers who died in Elder Tales were revived at the last temple they’d visited. Even in this world, which had gone mad following the Catastrophe, that hadn’t changed.

Temples were composed of the resurrection point—meaning the temple itself—and a wider “detection area.” In most cases, detection areas were the same size as the town that held the temple. In other words, the moment anyone entered the town, they were treated as if they’d visited the temple and “registered.” Afterward, if that Adventurer died, they were revived at the temple where they’d been registered.

Raid zones and high-difficulty dungeons were equipped with these mechanisms as well. In other words, those entire zones were detection areas, and if you died in them, you revived at the resurrection point at the dungeon’s entrance.

The temple in the ruins of Tekeli was no exception, and its detection area was the entire ruined town.

At first, Leonardo had been psyched that this temple existed.

After all, due to those certain circumstances, he’d been traveling through Central Asia, and this temple was a welcome save point. Journeys in this region were merciless and harsh. If he’d died, he would have had to restart his journey from a far-distant place.

He’d even thought of this temple—which stood right smack in the middle of the wilderness, all by itself—as a divine favor.

However, the reality was quite different.

“Dammit… I can’t do a blasted thing like this.”

Moving sluggishly, Leonardo looked toward the outskirts of town. There was something like a heat mirage there, undulating slowly.

A Daylight Shade.

It was a level-52 spirit monster.

When Leonardo had entered the town and climbed the bell tower at its center, he’d accidentally touched a water mirror. That had probably been the trigger: An event had begun.

At this point, guessing was all he could do, but it had to be a raid event for level-50 players. The ruins had been surrounded by countless Daylight Shades.

Leonardo was level 90.

Bragging aside, as an Assassin, he was top-notch. In close combat with two swords, he was near the top of the national rankings. He was a true New Yorker who lived on Avenue ABC, and as an über-geek who enjoyed Shake Shack burgers every week in Madison Square Park, he’d devoted all his enthusiasm to Elder Tales.

…Put bluntly, he was a hopeless American fanboy, but his enthusiasm was the real thing. Battle after battle. Junk food and more junk food. Of course, that wasn’t all. He also had those constant companions to online games: trivial gossip and squabbles and cheap melodrama, bragging nonsense stories, the limitless competition to acquire rare items, and a few really important connections.

Since he was that sort of guy, level-52 monsters weren’t enough to scare him. Not if there were only five or six of them, at any rate. Even if there had been thirty of them, at the worst, he probably would’ve been able to charge through them.

However, the situation surrounding the ruins of Tekeli was different. Even at a low estimate, there were several thousand Daylight Shades encircling this town. Under the circumstances, no one person, not even a level-90 player, could escape.

He hadn’t known that at the outset, of course.

Leonardo had gotten the information by firing himself up to get out or die, plotting his escape, then losing, dying, and finally resurrecting. The town was completely sealed on all four sides.

The situation couldn’t have been worse.

Ordinarily, no matter how hairy things got, when a player resurrected, they were sent to a temple in a safe location. Moreover, even without dying, they could get back by using Call of Home.

However, the ruins had apparently been registered as both a resurrection and a return point for Leonardo.

As things stood, neither dying nor using Call of Home would get him out of here.

“…I’m hungry. I want sushi…”

Sushi was one of Leonardo’s favorite foods, and he wanted it so badly he couldn’t stand it.

He missed Tasuda in Midtown and Ushiwaka in SoHo. He was partial to tuna with a generous dose of wasabi. No, he wouldn’t ask for that much. At this point, he’d even settle for a sketchy East Village California roll. That was how much he missed it.

In this world, after the Catastrophe, hunger felt like actual, physical pain. Nonetheless, Leonardo was short on information, and he didn’t know whether starving to death was possible here. He hadn’t seen or heard of prolonged hunger lowering anyone’s hit points and leading to death.

He still had some rations in his magic bag, but it seemed likely he’d get to run a personal experiment on starving to death in the not-so-distant future.

“If this were the North American server, at least…”

If this had been the North American server, Leonardo would have had friends and acquaintances here. His (lucky) friends who’d avoided getting caught up in the Catastrophe were probably still sitting pretty back in the real world, but still, Leonardo was a severe online game junkie, and he had a lot of acquaintances who were as unhinged as he was.

However, the telechat function couldn’t be used across server boundaries.

His friend list had still worked after the Catastrophe, but now it was just a dark gray block, without a single lit-up name. That was only natural: Most of his friends were on the North American server, and this was the Chinese server.

“Holy shit… I can’t deal with this, man.”

Things had been complete chaos on the North American server, as if somebody had thrown open the gates of hell. Fleeing the panic, thinking he’d find a place to lie low for a while, he’d jumped into a Fairy Ring…and now, Leonardo thought, he was paying for it.

He had more than five years of Elder Tales experience, and no matter how little he wanted to, he knew: With the amount of combat power he had personally, he couldn’t get through the surrounding Daylight Shades. That said, he had no way of calling for help, and he didn’t have a prayer of getting out of the situation by leveling up or getting an item.

He’d long ago abandoned the hope that somebody would pass by.

In the first place, he’d found these ruins by accident. They’d been all on their own, unmarked, in the middle of an immense wasteland, as if they were a prank somebody had pulled.

Now that he thought about it, he probably should have suspected at that point that there was some sort of quest or event.

This was checkmate.

His luck had run out.

In the center of Aorsoi’s—Kazakhstan’s—blue, blue wilderness, Leonardo had stumbled into a situation where his only hope of salvation was calling the game master.

Of course, in this world, the GM gods didn’t exist.

3

“Hey. You. If you sleep out here, you’ll mess up your stomach.”

All of this was why, when he heard those words, he thought it was some kind of joke.

Plus she had a dynamite figure—something just short of a fantasy.

A black-haired woman stood above him.

In what had become an almost unconscious habit, Leonardo checked her status.

Her name was… It looked like “Kanami.”

Her class was Monk. Level 90.

She had Asian features, and her hair was pulled back into a thick braid. Her eyes brimmed with curiosity, and her lips seemed vaguely amused; they made her look young, and he couldn’t immediately figure out her age. After all, people said Asians tended to look younger for their ages than Westerners like himself. Her equipment was light, as you’d expect in a game world, and her risqué outfit showcased her feminine charms with abandon.

In DC, she might have gotten hauled in and admonished, but for the San Fran coast, she was probably still in the permissible range. When his thoughts had gone that far, Leonardo shook his head. That stuff was common sense from back on Earth.

At any rate, she was a cute beauty with a great figure. All the women in this world were beautiful, but this girl also had an energetic, musical voice, and just from the few words she’d spoken, he sensed a charm that was more than skin-deep.

“Hey!”

Leonardo had been planning to introduce himself, but he yelled involuntarily.

He’d intended to tell her about the temple but had realized he was too late.

The temple’s detection area covered the entire ruined town.

That meant this woman had already fallen into its clutches.

“What?”

“Uh, nothing. Sorry for yelling. I’m Leonardo. I’m an Adventurer from the North American server.”

“Hmm. I’m Kanami.”

Saying this, the woman shook Leonardo’s hand, and he got to his feet.

Once their eyes were on roughly the same level, he realized that Kanami was about 170 centimeters tall—taller than Leonardo. He didn’t have much confidence in his height, and this sort of thing never made him happy.

* * *

“You came here from the North American server to take a nap? You’re pretty awesome.”

“Uh, no. That wasn’t it…but… Come to think of it, how did you get into these ruins?” Leonardo asked.

“Hmm? I just walked in.”

Reflexively, he glanced at the distant end of the broad avenue.

His eyesight had been enhanced through high-level correction, and he could make out a slight, wavering warp in the landscape of the boundary region on the outskirts of town. His expectations had been betrayed.

In short, those Daylight Shades didn’t attack anyone who came in from the outside. They trapped Adventurers inside, then annihilated them.

Apparently, it was that kind of event.

“I want you to listen to what I’m about to say without getting too bummed out, or panicking, or taking it out on me.”

“Hmm?”

Braid swinging, Kanami turned her large black eyes on Leonardo. Having those mysterious Eastern eyes gazing at him disconcerted the man, but meeting this colleague had been a minor miracle, and he didn’t want to shock her, so he chose his words carefully as he went on.

“Umm, see, from what I can tell, these ruins are currently caught up in an event.”

“An event?”

“Yeah. A raid event, at that.”

“Ooooh!”

Kanami’s eyes sparkled in obvious delight.

Leonardo didn’t think it was anything to be happy about, and he lowered his voice and continued.

“The situation’s hopeless. There’s a temple in this town. In other words, the moment you stepped in here, um, Miz Kanami, you also got…”

“Registered?”

“Yeah. And obviously…”

“We can’t get away by resurrecting or using the Call of Home spell?”

“Right. You catch on fast. That’s a huge help.”

“Okay, great! I got it! I’m all fired up!!”

Kanami’s naïve response bewildered Leonardo.

Did the woman really understand?

It looked as if she was just getting excited over the word raid.

Was it possible she was a newbie?

In Elder Tales, leveling up wasn’t that hard. Quests were as abundant as an enormous Manchu Han Imperial Feast and generously distributed across all level demographics, so if you chased after them, your level would practically rise on its own.

The game itself boasted a long history, and that meant the difference between veteran players and new players was a serious problem. That difference was particularly noticeable in levels, and it was an element that kept gamers from playing together. Things such as the Coach System had been added with that in mind, but the quickest way to solve the fundamental problem was to eliminate the level difference between players.

To that end, the Elder Tales administrators had set a policy of helping new players to level up.

In other words, even for newbies, it wasn’t very difficult to grow to level 90, the maximum level. Ordinary players could reach level 90 in less than a hundred hours.

On the other hand, it wasn’t easy to get a complete set of equipment suitable for a level-90 player. It took ages to improve all your special skills to esoteric-class and to acquire a full array of treasure-class items.

Kanami’s equipment was nothing for a level-90 player to be embarrassed about, but unlike Leonardo’s, its specs weren’t hard-core. From the look of her gear, Kanami probably hadn’t been playing for very long.

“Do you really get it? This town is surrounded, and we’re probably not gonna be able to get away.”

“Huh? Why not?”

Kanami asked the question as if the idea completely mystified her. As she tilted her head, the word blank suited her expression perfectly.

“Well, I mean, it’s a raid… Oh! I see. You’re Chinese?”

Catching on, Leonardo felt relieved.

He was from the North American server, and he couldn’t contact his friends, but if Kanami was from the Chinese server, it was very likely that she’d be able to get in touch with hers. The post-Catastrophe world was filled with chaos and malice, so there was no telling whether any of her friends would come to a place this remote to rescue her, but even so, it was much better than not being able to contact them at all.

If this was level-50 full raid content, meant for twenty-four players, then ten level-90 Adventurers with ordinary equipment would probably be able to break through it. Even Leonardo thought that, if there’d been five or six of him, they’d at least have managed to run away.

“What are you talking about? I’m Japanese. I live in Rome. On the Western European server!”

However, Kanami’s words shattered Leonardo’s hopes. The automatic translation system was too good, and because it translated everything perfectly, he’d completely failed to notice.

“Then…”

“Never mind. Why are you wearing that?”

Leonardo shook his head a few times before answering Kanami’s question.

“No skin off your nose, is it? It’s a hobby.”

As a matter of fact, he was very used to hearing that question.

“What is it?”

“A frog.”

For that reason, Leonardo was able to answer even rude questions with the slickest attitude imaginable: What are you dressed as? A frog. What does it stand for? It stands for a frog. Why is it wearing a red mask that only hides the area around its eyes? Because it’s a ninja.

Why a frog? Why a ninja?

Don’t be ridiculous.

Because it’s cooler that way. Obviously.

“Wow, you… You’re fantastic! Fantastic!”

However, although ordinary people were usually completely disgusted by his responses, Kanami’s reaction was different.

“That’s part of the costume headgear series, isn’t it?! It’s less a frog than a fuhrahhg, huh!!”

He looked funny dressed as a comic book character, possibly even absurd, but as Kanami took several more good looks at him, smiling brightly, she seemed delighted. Getting laughed at this much should have made him feel insulted, but although Leonardo was taken aback, he felt no anger.

This was probably because, as Kanami grinned, there was absolutely no derision or contempt in what she said. The sense that she was simply intrigued and entertained came through loud and clear. For that reason, although Leonardo’s twin swords had routed many PKs and insolent individuals he didn’t like, for once, they kept their silence.

“What I look like shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Well, but I mean— It’s just awesome!”

“Lemme alone.”

“C’mon, c’mon! Pose with your sword! Show me, show me!”

“I’ll fillet you.”

“S-so cooool! That’s super-cute!! I want to pet you!”

Laughing brightly, Kanami hugged him. On top of Leonardo’s leather armor—which he’d coordinated in green—and his exclusive Assassin’s tunic, he found a soft body that smelled like young grass clinging to him.

“Uh, a little modesty?! Control yourself, would you?!”

“Wow! You’re kinda great!”

“What’s ‘great’?!”

“Come with us!”

Huh?

“We’re headed for Japan. It’s a long way, you know? We’re getting pretty bored. So, listen, want to come with? Besides, if you nap in a place like this, you’ll just mess up your tum-tum.”

Why Japan?

Wait, no, I wasn’t napping.

Never mind that, didn’t she get the part about not being able to get out of here?

That’s not it.

Leonardo’s thoughts were on the verge of overloading, and he pulled them together.

Us. This lovely girl, who was probably about the same age as Leonardo, had just said us.

“You’ve got friends here?!”

“Yep. Oh, right. Since you’re coming with us, I’ll introduce you.”

In the end, Leonardo’s objection—No, hold it, I didn’t say I’d go with you yet—disappeared without so much as a murmur.

Although it probably wasn’t because they’d heard what Kanami said, a man and woman had come over the rubble of the ruins, and the man at least was so famous that even Leonardo recognized him.

“Mistress Kanami. I see you’ve found a survivor. Hmm… Your appearance is quite bizarre, but you look like a seasoned Adventurer. I’m glad to make your acquaintance.”

This young man, whose lips were curved up in a charming smile, and who was so handsome it made you want to crack a joke on reflex, was Elias Hackblade.

“Elias Hackblade…”

“Ah. You know me? My thanks, Sir Adventurer.”

Elias didn’t seem to have any qualms about Leonardo’s cosplay gear. He smiled good-naturedly and held out his hand for a handshake.

Elias Hackblade.

He was one of the handful of people who were globally famous in the world of Elder Tales.

He was a hero affiliated with the Knights of the Red Branch, one of the thirteen global chivalric orders that were said to keep the peace around the world. He was a Blademancer and a Blue-Blood Ancient.

Ancients were one of the game elements that had existed since this world was just an MMO known as Elder Tales. Most of the NPCs—in other words, the game characters who weren’t players and who filled supporting roles—were known as People of the Earth.

Townspeople and nobles, victims and Adventurer clients: In most cases, all of these were People of the Earth.

In this world, People of the Earth were designed to be “less” than Adventurers in a variety of ways.

By doing battle again and again, Adventurers grew rapidly, and their levels rose. Ultimately, they gained vast combat abilities and were able to fight dragons or giants.

Even if they were lethally wounded, instead of dying completely, they returned to the temple and were resurrected, so it was possible to consider them immortal.

However, this wasn’t true for the People of the Earth.

An overwhelming majority of them had levels in the single digits, and if they died, they didn’t revive. After all, you didn’t need levels or combat abilities for “game functions,” such as working at the bank or running an inn.

In addition, since this was a game, the protagonists of the adventure had to be the players—the Adventurers. The idea of journeying in another world that was swarming with villagers who were stronger than the players was enough to give anybody chills.

The People of the Earth were weak because they had been designed that way, due to a variety of interconnected elements like these. However, from the perspective of the game’s story, when it came to building drama or constructing quests, it would be inconvenient if all NPCs had zero combat ability.

Of course, if the NPCs stole the Adventurers’ part of the action, they’d be stealing the thunder. However, sometimes people wanted scenes where NPCs and Adventurers fought shoulder to shoulder.

It was probably these circumstances that had given rise to the beings known as Ancients.

In short, Ancients were exceptional NPCs.

They had high combat abilities, and not only were they the Adventurers’ equals, they occasionally surpassed them. They appeared in a variety of quests; sometimes they saved Adventurers, and sometimes they asked Adventurers for help.

As in all RPGs, in Elder Tales, the scale of adventures expanded, growing from trivial, low-level quests to high-level conspiracies involving nations or whole regions.

On low-level adventures, the best you could hope for was guarding a village or hamlet from wolves or goblins. While they were on adventures like those, no Adventurer would ever get the chance to interact with an Ancient.

However, as Adventurers’ levels rose and they began to face invading evils that shook entire nations, these beings appeared within the background lore to introduce new quests.

Most—or rather, nearly all—of the Ancients were affiliated with one of the thirteen global chivalric orders. These thirteen orders were organizations made up of Ancients, and there was one per server. Their role was not to intervene in national or regional power struggles but to protect the world of Elder Tales from evil overall.

For example, on the North American server where Leonardo had spent many years adventuring, there was a brigade called the Wen Keepers. They helped out with the sort of quests that led to raids and acted as the backbone of such stories.

A high-level Adventurer would hear from the Wen Keepers that a member of their brigade had vanished while away on an investigation. In searching for the missing knight, the Adventurer would close in on the mystery of a terrifying ancient secret concerning the Sedona Ruins… That was how it usually went.

Naturally, there were far fewer Ancients than there were People of the Earth. However, since there were many chances to meet them on high-level adventures, it was possible for some Ancients to become famous among the Adventurers.

Elias Hackblade was, without a doubt, the greatest hero and most famous person in the world of Elder Tales.

He was an invincible hero raised by the fairy tribe and had been taught fairy sword techniques; there was an introductory article on the official site that said so. Elias Hackblade actually appeared on the package art of the version of Elder Tales that was sold in stores.

He had chestnut hair and eyes, and he wore a pure white, armored coat with indigo accent lines. His weapon was Crystal Stream, an enormous two-handed sword, and he used the absolutely invincible sword technique Fairy Arts… He was a hero so cool, and so typical, that it made you wonder what middle schooler had dreamed him up.

4

“And so, Eli-Eli…”

“I wish you wouldn’t call me Eli-Eli, Mistress.”

“But Eli-Eli sounds cuter!”

As Leonardo stood there, dumbfounded, Kanami and Elias fell into conversation. Elias was an Ancient. He wasn’t an Adventurer. Not only that, he was an NPC. In other words, he wasn’t even human.

Since that was the case, why was this woman talking to him as if they were on really good terms?

Or, no, even before that, why was Elias even here?

The Knights of the Red Branch, the order he was affiliated with, was supposed to be attached to the Northern European server.

Of course, Elias was one of the most famous of the many Ancients. His fame was equal to that of Ling Tianfeng, the “White Wing Princess.”

That was why Leonardo, who was a resident of the North American server, not one of the European servers, had recognized Elias on sight. Even so, Ancients didn’t often leave the servers they were responsible for. Unless there was a special worldwide event, it wasn’t even possible, and more than anything, in the current Elder Tales, there were no administrators to plan those events.

A low, calm chime rang in Leonardo’s stunned brain. It was a system sound, and when he checked, there was an open window inviting him to a party. Thinking it was probably from the group in front of him, Leonardo accepted without really looking it over.

When a party was formed, a mental list of the members’ names appeared. From that screen, Leonardo learned the name of the slight girl who had invited him.

The girl’s name was Coppélia.

She’d appeared with Elias a short while ago, but she’d seemed quiet and plain, and the shock of Elias had made him nearly forget about her.

The girl was small, only about 140 centimeters, and she was dressed in a Victorian maid outfit. She was apparently a Cleric. Of course, her level was 90.

She came closer, looked up at Leonardo, delicately pinched up her skirt, and performed a graceful curtsey.

“Coppélia is called Coppélia. It is good to meet you. Coppélia looks forward to working together. Do you wish to be healed?”

“Oh, uh, I’m Leonardo. Nice to meet you. No, I’m good. No healing necessary.”

There was something odd and doll-like about the girl. As he looked down at her, Leonardo thought that, although her responses were a bit strange, she seemed like the most decent member of the group.

Now that he’d registered with the party, he knew that there were only four people in Kanami’s group. The breakdown consisted of himself—who’d just been press-ganged in—the black-haired beauty Kanami, the girl Coppélia who was standing here with him, and Elias.

Kanami was a level-90 Monk.

Coppélia was a level-90 Cleric.

He got that much. It made sense. Three people would make for a small group, but Monks were evasive tanks that kept enemies in check on the front line, while Clerics were in charge of healing. Then there was Leonardo, an Assassin who single-mindedly pared down the enemy’s numbers. The balance wasn’t bad at all. It was a simple party, built from the bare essentials.

However, Elias was part of it, too, and what was he?

A level-100 Blademancer.

The landscape in front of Leonardo seemed to roll and undulate, and it felt like he was losing his grip on the situation.

In the first place, how could an NPC and a party team up at all?

Even the “Blademancer” part was a mystery. In Elder Tales, there were twelve main classes to choose from: three Warrior classes, three Weapon Attack classes, three Recovery classes, and three Magic Attack classes. An off-the-wall option like Blademancer certainly wasn’t one of them. The same went for level 100. The maximum level limit for Adventurers was 90. That hadn’t changed since the expansion pack that was added two years ago.

Having a level so high it surpassed the limits of those around you and a unique main class that no other player could acquire? That was the sort of stuff you only ran into in anime.

Everything about this seemed to mock what Leonardo knew to be common sense.

“Your heart rate is exhibiting irregularities. Do you wish to be healed?”

“No, it’s fine. Am I the one who’s weird here?”

“Coppélia did not notice an abnormal status icon.”

“That’s not what I meant… So, uh, you’ve been traveling for a while?” Leonardo quickly asked.

“Master picked up Coppélia in Via de Fleurs.”

Registering the presence of automatic translation from the slight time lag after her lips moved, Leonardo let his thoughts run for a little. He was pretty sure that “Whatever-Fleurs” was Paris. That meant that Kanami and Elias had come from the Northern European server and cut across Europe before reaching Central Asia. They might have been serious about making for Japan.

However, at that point, his thoughts were forcibly interrupted.

There was a loud sound of something being crushed, and Leonardo realized that Kanami and Elias had disappeared while his mind was elsewhere.

“Combat has been initiated. Coppélia intends to secure an appropriate distance for healing. Please forgive her withdrawal from this conversation.”

“No, you’re fine. I’m going, too!”

Leonardo broke into a run, racing through the arid streets with the girl.

They didn’t even have to look. The ruins of Tekeli didn’t have many buildings to block the view; the cold highland wind and the intense sunlight had easily eroded the ancient brick. Only a sparse few of the ruins’ remaining walls and pillars were as tall as Leonardo, which made it easy to pinpoint the scene of the fight.

Near the point where one of the wide avenues that divided the town into quarters went eastward toward an exit, a violent thunderclap echoed. It was electroshock magic. The horde of heat mirages, enough of them to warp the landscape, was probably Daylight Shades.

From the look of the distortion, there were definitely several dozen of them gathered in that one area.

Elias, who was still a few hundred meters away, raised a transparent two-handed sword over his head, then began fearlessly slashing his way to the center of the host of monsters.

What are they doing?!

A river of cold sweat ran down his back.

Elias was fine. Leonardo didn’t know the details of that special Blademancer class of his or his true level-100 skills, and so, although it was a faint hope, it was possible that he’d be able to rout countless Daylight Shades by himself.

However, Kanami—who’d dived into the melee on Elias’s heels—could never do it. Any attempt would be utterly suicidal.

This was clear from the fact that Leonardo, who was also level 90, had been slaughtered in under five minutes.

“Tactical distance secured. Initiating combat support. Chanting: Sanctuary, Shield Pact.”

If things were like this, there was no help for it.

He’d just have to die again.

Leonardo steeled himself. Coppélia, who was running next to him, seemed to have entered the spellcasting range. She’d begun to cast support spells on her companions. She hadn’t attacked directly, but using support spells was a solid backup action— In other words, she’d joined the fight.

The Daylight Shades were bound to notice, and they would set their sights on her.

Since Elias and Kanami were fighting on the front line, things were all right at this point, but if those two fell, the demons would mark the slight girl as their next prey. When that happened, it was as clear as day that the Frenchwoman would lose her life.

Ultimately, she’d practically signed a delayed-action death certificate. This was true for all the members of the party, aside from Leonardo.

And if that was the case, he needed to dive into the jaws of death, too.

Of course he thought it was stupid, but that was what made him a geek: doing stupid stuff like that. Leonardo was a genuine New Yorker, and he had his pride. It wasn’t like anybody would ever understand it, but frog ninjas were, by definition, allies of justice.

How could he just stand here staring at some woman’s tail?

“Rraaaaaargh!”

With a howl as if he were squeezing the air out of his lungs, Leonardo charged at the horde of monsters, which rippled like a heat mirage. He used his reinforced physical abilities to flip, running right over his opponents’ heads. It was Mobility Attack. In most cases, this would put him in a monster’s blind spot.

I ain’t holding nothin’ back!

For his first attack, Leonardo chose the biggest lethal move he had.

A warrior’s reason for existing was to draw the enemy’s attention, erasing their companions’ presence from their minds. The role of a healer was to keep their companions recovered, preventing their deaths. And magic users had to control the battle, keeping unforeseen situations from coming up until the fighting was over.

Then what did Assassins, a weapon attack class, do?

The role of Weapon Attack classes could be summarized as “destroy the enemy.” Among them, Assassins in particular were designed with abilities geared toward eliminating enemies.

The greatest of these techniques, Assassinate, inflicted close to ten thousand in damage instantaneously, just as Leonardo had predicted. In addition, as an incidental effect that targeted enemies more than ten levels below him, it caused instant death.

A dry, high-pitched sound like a fired blank echoed through the area.

Along with the noise, which sounded almost comical, a single Daylight Shade burst, its existence ending.

“Aha! You’re finally here, huh, Croakanardo?!”

“Lay off the rude nicknames, all right?”

“In that case, let’s begin in earnest. —Come, Crystal Stream! Fairy blood within me! Lend me strength so that I may slay the enemies before me!”

You think you’re in an anime or something? Leonardo snarked silently, but he didn’t have the leeway to actually mutter it aloud. Having destroyed a monster in the blink of an eye, he surveyed his surroundings carefully. There was still a ton of enemies left. He could actually see several dozen right now, and he knew from previous experience that, if the party took their time, the ones who were currently surrounding the town would gather here.

He had to cut down the enemy’s numbers without losing his cool, and he had to work at maximum efficiency. Elias’s body was wrapped in a torrent of shining purple and pale blue light. When he took a closer look, that protection seemed to have been cast on Kanami, Coppélia, and himself as well.

Thanks to that effect, which seemed to reinforce their defenses, they were currently managing to hold the battle line. However, even if these were level-50 monsters, with this many of them, they absolutely couldn’t underestimate the pressure.

If they were able to whittle down the enemy’s numbers this way, fine.

That said, if the speed with which their opponents summoned backup and increased their ranks was faster than Leonardo could cut them down, the balance would crumble easily. When that happened, Coppélia’s recovery spells wouldn’t make it in time, and the front line would gradually crumble. They’d push themselves, and as a result, they’d be wiped out.

In the end, this fight was a battle to reduce numbers.

Leonardo bit his lip.

In which case, as an Assassin, he held the key to the battle.

5

The Daylight Shades welled up from the ground like mist.

As their name suggested, they looked just like heat mirages.

“Hiyah!”

Leonardo swung the fantasy-class twin swords that were his pride and joy.

Assassins weren’t as good at fighting with two swords as Swashbucklers, and the ones they wielded were exclusive equipment that had unique modeling and effects. The effect of this particular item added additional flame damage to all of Leonardo’s attacks. The blanket term for this type of incidental effect was “process activated ability,” or “proc,” and it was often seen in highly realistic magic items.

Leaving tracks from those flames in the air, Leonardo raced through the enemy horde.

Assassins were a class that specialized in attacking, and they were the most lethal of the twelve main classes. However, in order to inflict maximum damage, they had to clear several conditions.

For example, the enemy’s attention had to be focused elsewhere.

In this case, the vanguards were Kanami and Elias. Relying on that shining, pale blue effect, they were managing to completely draw the monsters’ attention. Some of this might have been due to their personalities: Elias stood grandly in the very center of the Daylight Shades, and Kanami gave cheerful yells and swung her arms and legs around. Both had the intensity to attract attention.

The second condition was that attacks had to be made from the enemy’s blind spot. This was done by circling around behind its back and attacking from an angle it’d failed to check. Fortunately, Assassins had plenty of skills designed to make this happen.

If you were concentrating on creating party dynamics that were true to the basics, these two conditions weren’t at all difficult to achieve. The formation in which the vanguard Warrior classes attracted the enemy while the Assassins circled around behind it and dealt damage was basic practical knowledge in Elder Tales.

However, Assassins had great offensive power. If he inflicted too much damage, the monsters would probably decide that Leonardo, who was behind them, was more of a threat than the warriors in front of them, and they’d switch their target. If that happened, Leonardo would be on the receiving end, and not only would he take damage, he wouldn’t be able to put his vaunted attack power to work.

In addition, once monsters took massive damage from the rear, even if they didn’t shift their attention to Leonardo, they’d still pay more attention to their surroundings for a little while. In other words, it would get harder to attack them from their blind spots.

To prevent losses like these, Leonardo dashed across the battlefield.

By moving, he increased the number of enemies he could attack. Among those expanded alternatives, he focused on finishing off monsters that had less health and destroyed the ones that’d gotten absorbed in attacking the vanguard and had left themselves open.

This continuously moving attack was the answer Leonardo the Assassin had come up with after the Catastrophe.

Leonardo’s combat was top-class, and no true game junkie could have been ashamed of it. However, the one that was clearly abnormal, even from Leonardo’s perspective, was Elias.

Though, of course, Elias was an Ancient. He wasn’t an Adventurer.

It was probably a mistake for Leonardo to use his common sense to decide whether he was normal or abnormal. Still, reflection on his error did nothing to calm his need to perform.

“Go forth and conquer!! Crystal Stream!! Spirits of clear water, transform yourselves into a ten-thousand-foot blade and shine! Aqua Thousand Rain!!”

Responding to Elias’s shout, a magic circle came together around him, and a semimaterial water spirit appeared from it. It was a Lady of the Lake with flowing hair. No sooner had she extended her slim fingers than, with a piercing yell, Elias swung his crystalline magic sword.

A water-attribute aura sprang from the sword tip, changing countless water droplets into needles that mowed down the Daylight Shades.

It was powerful enough that the spawns would stay low for a little while, and more than anything, its range was broad: probably about 120 degrees in front, with a distance of ten meters. It was a nonstandard attack skill.

If that had been a Sorcerer’s attack, it probably wouldn’t have startled Leonardo. Sorcerer’s attacks were on par with Assassins’, and they were ranged attack experts. That meant it was only natural for their spells to be powerful.

However, Elias wasn’t a Sorcerer. In spite of that, he was fighting as a vanguard whose defense was at least as good as Kanami’s, if not better—like a Warrior. In addition, the pale blue spell that had been cast to protect everyone in the party was performing as well as a healer’s.

Leonardo was forced to admit that the guy had the advantages of every class that existed.

Frankly, he was so strong it seemed fake.

What the hell is he?!

Even as he inwardly shouted in amazement, Leonardo took out one enemy, then another. Assassin attacks concentrated their damage on individuals. Elias’s range attacks were highly effective, but Leonardo flattered himself that he wasn’t losing to the other guy where damage per second was concerned.

Leonardo captured the back of a Daylight Shade that Elias had sent flying, freezing it temporarily, then swung his twin swords with the speed of a swallow in flight.

Assassinate was a lethal skill, and its recast time was three hundred seconds. He wouldn’t be able to use it for a while. However, when a top-class Assassin hit an enemy from behind with a well-aimed attack, the critical rate was over 50 percent. He compensated for Assassinate, accumulating damage.

“Finish them off, if you would, Adventurer Leonardo!”

“I told you, he’s Croakanardo!”

Kanami’s cheerful voice made Leonardo’s head hurt. Gimme a break.

“I am unable to kill the enemy with my sword technique, Fairy Arts!”

Elias began saying something that didn’t make much sense.

“I have been marked by the fairy tribe, and the curse of Fairy Eye runs through the Mana Circuits within me.”

At first, Elias’s words made Leonardo think that the translation function had gone haywire, but when he saw that his expression was completely serious, he was sure: This guy was what they’d call a “background info fiend” in Japan—somebody with severe delusions. With a louder voice, Elias kept saying the sort of words that made Leonardo’s spine crawl.

“Due to the curse of Fairy Eye, I am unable to finish off monsters!”

“Huh?”

At that confession, even Leonardo stopped and turned back.

“And so, if you would, finish them off!”

“Umm, Croakanardo? He’s saying, well, you know. Elias is an Ancient, so he can’t drop monsters’ HP to zero.”

That’s nuts!! For a moment, Leonardo was stunned, but then he reconsidered. Maybe there was no help for that. Come to think of it, Ancients were NPCs. Their duty was to support players’ game experiences and to make things more interesting. There wouldn’t be any point in grandstanding all on their own.

That was probably why Elias had been saddled with the restriction of being unable to finish off monsters.

Leonardo didn’t know whether this restriction was true for all Ancients or whether it was specific to Elias, but from what the Ancient had said, he thought it might be the latter. After all, Elias had been given detailed background information—it was “due to the curse of Fairy Eye”—in order to rationalize the restriction. It made Leonardo’s head ache, but it was self-reported. He couldn’t deny it.

Either way, it didn’t change Leonardo’s job.

Bending low to evade a gust of hot wind coming at him from the side, Leonardo swung the straight sword in his right hand, crouching even lower. He slashed through the enemy without feeling much resistance.

Then he moved, seeming to slide. He attacked.

It didn’t matter whether the other fell to Leonardo’s attack or survived it. He kept moving, continuing to attack blind spots.

Having killed one Daylight Shade, Leonardo shot a glance at Kanami. His expression looked as if he’d just chomped down on something bitter.

Elias was one thing. He was an Ancient and a Blademancer, a special class that wasn’t available to Adventurers. Even if Leonardo couldn’t be satisfied in the face of those ridiculous abilities, in terms of the system, there was room to think it at least made sense.

However, Kanami was another matter.

She was a proper Adventurer, and her class was Monk, something Leonardo was used to seeing. Her level was 90, too, the same as his own.

She didn’t seem to be using any equipment that was particularly rare or high-class. At the very least, it didn’t look as if she had any powerful items like Ninja Twin Flames, the fantasy-class Assassin twin blades, or Siolo’s Darkwalker Belt, a fantasy-class accessory.

The weapons she’d equipped to both hands were probably Giant-Killer Gauntlets, a level-89 production-class item.

Her equipment wasn’t shabby, and she seemed to have put careful thought into its selection, but it couldn’t compare to a high-ranker’s. All of it seemed to have been pulled together somehow or another within the limits of her budget.

“Yahoo! Thwok, pow, kabooom!”

Kanami paid out punches, putting her back into them.

She stepped in farther, thrusting out her left fist, then her right, and landed a body blow using her elbow and shoulder. To round out the magnificent combo, she leapt into the air as if gravity had vanished, then, extending a single leg like a stake, nailed a Daylight Shade to the ground with a kick.

The Daylight Shade flickered palely, then disappeared.

Kanami’s attack power was simply abnormal.

Leonardo had a lot of experience in Elder Tales, and he could tell. It was true that, as Warriors, Monks had high offensive abilities. They were the type that linked small blows together to accumulate damage, and an astonishing number of moves went into their combos and serial attacks. However, even if that was true, the amount of damage was still only “high for a Warrior.”

The role of the Warrior classes was to draw the enemy’s attacks on the front line and hold them there. In other words, the class was characterized by the ability to keep the enemy in place and the ability to survive.

Compared to Guardians, Monks’ ability to reduce damage with armor or shields was extremely low. In exchange, they were a type of Warrior who supported the front line with high evasion rates and abundant HP. They had several abilities that were suited to independent movement; in combination with their relatively high attack power, this made the class a favorite of veteran gamers and one that was well suited to solo play.

However, there was no way they could have attack power that rivaled Assassins’, the attack specialists. In the balance structure of the Elder Tales game, that was a natural rule.

That isn’t even…

How could her results be possible? Leonardo checked again and again.

At this point, in the world after the Catastrophe, damage dealt to monsters wasn’t visible. However, you could get a rough idea of attack power by seeing how many seconds it took to defeat the same monster.

In terms of the total, Kanami was putting down Daylight Shades in about the same amount of time as Leonardo, or even less.

Of course, if he used Assassinate, Leonardo could kill monsters instantly. That only worked once every few minutes, though, and it only took out one enemy. For a while now, Kanami had been steadily inflicting the sort of damage that Leonardo could manage only with Assassinate.

What’s going on here? This doesn’t make any sense!

Leonardo felt himself slipping toward panic.

Was Kanami what you’d call a youkai? She was still cheerfully flattening enemies, but all of a sudden, Leonardo felt as if she’d turned into a creepy monster.

“Ah!”

Abruptly, seeming to rise high on her toes, Kanami looked at the far edge of the battlefield.

“A space has opened up in the battlefield.”

It was Coppélia who’d spoken. She’d come right up behind Leonardo before he noticed her. Coppélia was a healer. She wasn’t like that joker Ancient or the enigmatic Asian battle maniac. Leonardo scanned their surroundings warily, but possibly because of Elias’s range attacks and the fact that Leonardo and Kanami had both taken out every monster they could get their hands on, the Daylight Shades were hanging back. They seemed to be watching for openings.

Just then, a white horse ran up gallantly, and Kanami grabbed its mane. Stretching out her left arm, she pulled Coppélia up.

“Let’s go! The more we punch these guys, the more of ’em show up, and it’s kinda boring!”

Kanami had taken a gourd-shaped canteen out of her bag, and she tipped her head back and took a swallow of water.

“Wait!! What’s the meaning of this?! Are the two of us traveling on foot?!”

Elias had almost screamed. Leonardo was in full agreement, and he nodded several times, but the only response Kanami gave them was a brilliant smile. The blue, blue sky was behind her.

“Let’s go! To the East!”

Thus began the journey of the quartet and its horse.

6

The wind that blew across the wasteland was already so cold that it felt like a wintery blast.

Yet for this wilderness, the word night didn’t mean “saturated in darkness.” It meant the silence was filled with a clarity that had lost the inelegance of light.

The blue of the universe stayed as it was, seeming to lie on the earth, whose colors had dimmed into shadow. If you looked up, its expanse bled into a sky filled with hundreds of millions of stars.

This was night on the Aorsoi plateau.

The distant mountains showed their dark shapes only subtly, as holes in the starry sky.

Leonardo and the others were illuminated by an orange, crackling campfire.

Leonardo had started the fire, and a tin kettle that Coppélia had taken out of her bag was hanging over it.

The hissing puffs of steam that escaped the kettle were scattered by the cold highland wind, vanishing almost instantly.

Having found a windbreak, Elias and Kanami had pitched the party’s tent and regrouped with the rest of the party. Kanami had wrapped herself in a thick mantle of rough cloth.

Adventurer bodies were sturdy, but the night chill was probably hard for her to take. Because she wore an outfit that showed off her midriff, that was only to be expected.

Carefully, Coppélia poured a black liquid into four battered tin cups that she’d also taken out of her bag. It was coffee, with plenty of honey.

“And? What do we do?”

Leonardo’s mouth was set in a dissatisfied line. As he asked the group his question, he shrugged into a thick tunic he’d pulled out of his bag.

“What do you mean, ‘what do we do?’”

“I mean, what’re we going to do now?”

“I told you already. We’re going to Japan.”

Kanami answered Leonardo, sounding casual.

“Did you know you need to cross an ocean to get to Japan?”

As a geek, Leonardo knew more about Japan than the average North American. Japan was a weird, cool country that was right next to the east side of China, at the very end of the world.

Leonardo didn’t know exactly where they were, but he did know it was somewhere in the central northwest of the Eurasian continent. In general terms, they were probably somewhere above and to the right of places like Iran and Iraq.

Travel from here to Japan? Not only that, but do it without Fairy Rings? That didn’t even sound sane.

“Nah, it’ll be fine. Right?”

Kanami turned to Elias. Elias nodded, wearing a magnanimous expression. It wasn’t clear whether he really understood or not.

“If we swim real hard, we’ll get across.”

Kanami said something ridiculous. She was holding her coffee in both hands.

Flustered by her new companion’s reproachful gaze, she elaborated:

“I mean, I moved to the EU a little while back, and they’ve got these old grandpas and grandmas who swim across the Dover Channel. That’s the ocean, you know? The Channel. It’s not much different from the gap between Japan and Taiwan. It’ll work.”

Was that right? It sounded fishy to Leonardo, but he couldn’t flat-out deny it. When he searched through his fuzzy knowledge, it did seem as though Japan was pretty close to China’s bulge, but would things really go that well? In any case, he was pretty sure the people who made the Dover crossing were refugees, but not saying that was what discretion was all about. Since the “vital fall,” things were pretty much the same everywhere.

“Anyway, with the Half-Gaia Project, distances in this world are halved. On top of that, we’ve got Adventurer physical abilities. There’s no way it won’t work!”

When she put it that way, Leonardo started to feel like maybe she was right.

He didn’t notice that, beside him, Coppélia was quietly shaking her head.

“…Well, uh, say the crossing-to-Japan thing is fine. What are we going to do until we get there? We’re right smack in the middle of Eurasia, y’know. If the earth is about forty thousand kilometers around, this is a quarter of that—ten thousand kilometers. With Half-Gaia, that’s five thousand kilometers.”

“If we go five hundred kilometers an hour, then in ten hours we’ll be—”

“What the heck kind of traveler can do that?! We’d generate sonic booms!”

Leonardo sighed, and Coppélia spoke to him, quietly.

“According to Coppélia’s calculations, if we travel fifty kilometers per day, we will arrive in one hundred days. It will be all right. There is a good possibility that we will arrive within half a year.”

Come to think of it, she was right.

He’d had a really bad time in the ruins of Tekeli, but three of their four members were level 90. The remaining member was Elias, and he was a definite irregular. Assuming they were just moving along, and this was just a journey through the wilderness, unless they got pulled into some kind of event, he couldn’t say it would be all that dangerous.

It would have been one thing if they had a time limit, but if they were just traveling, they’d probably get there “someday.”

However, with that said…

The mere idea of a journey that would take half a year, more or less, was a weird thing for a modern-day human to have.

“Why do you want to go to Japan that badly? You said you were Japanese, right, Kanami? Is that why you want to get back there?”

“Well, I’m not saying that’s not part of it.”

Wrapped up in her thick mantle, Kanami gazed at Leonardo across the campfire with a smile that wasn’t at all feminine.

“Don’t you know? Keh-heh-heh.”

There was no point in asking him that. Today was the first time Leonardo had ever seen her. There was no way he could know about her circumstances.

When Leonardo shook his head silently, Kanami began to speak softly.

“This incident… There has to be some sort of cause, right? I want to know what it is.”

Kanami’s words were as frank as a child’s.

Those innocent words struck Leonardo square in the chest.

In that case, Leonardo wanted to say it, too: So do I. I want to know. He couldn’t, though. He’d lived through every day until this one that way, unable to say it.

Leonardo’s hometown in Elder Tales had been Big Apple. This town, which had been modeled on real-world New York City, held his birthplace, his neighborhood, and his pride.

In Central Park, the flowers were beautiful all year round. If you left the park’s south side, there was the brick and terra cotta Carnegie Hall. In Big Apple, instead of being a concert hall, it was a place that sold shish kebabs and tacos, but it was the perfect place for Leonardo and the other denizens of downtown to gather.

If you kept going south on Seventh Avenue, you emerged in Times Square, the messiest, nastiest intersection in the world. Even in crowds like these, true New Yorkers didn’t lose their cool. They had their own destinations firmly in mind, so they were able to keep walking at maximum efficiency, without paying attention to anybody else. The only people who stared up at the skyscrapers with their mouths half-open were yokels visiting from the country.

They headed, android-like, for the Chrysler Building or the Diamond District or the United Nations Building, but in Elder Tales, all of these were ruins and had been turned into the strongholds of the guilds that haunted Big Apple.

FAO Schwarz, Trinity Church, Radio City Music Hall. Each of these was used as the headquarters for a renowned major guild, and their crumbling yet still magnificent shapes stood proudly against the blue skies of this other world.

Simply put, New York was the best city anywhere.

That was true both on Earth and here in the world of Elder Tales. New York was a megacity overflowing with neighborly love and a power like upturned chaos, and it was Leonardo’s home.

However, the Catastrophe had changed everything.

After that nightmarish day, half the guilds had been forced to disband, and half of what remained had morphed into organized crime groups dominated by tyrannical monsters.

Guilds didn’t have personalities. After all, they were just names—mere systems. And so, in the midst of that confusion, when everyone had abandoned themselves to grief, the guilds that had adopted vicious goals were stronger.

If they permitted stealing from fellow Adventurers—or from People of the Earth, who were easier to exploit—they generated profit. Power structures grew up around that profit, and as long as they created organizations that used violence to subjugate those below them, those guilds managed to keep existing.

Meanwhile, the neutral guilds that most players belonged to had been weak. When it came to surviving in this world, individualism and fairness couldn’t serve as goals. At heart, individualism was nothing but personal benefit, and fairness was a guideline for distributing profit. Morality that wasn’t backed by any major authority didn’t even last a week.

Guilds that proclaimed fairness and solidarity among their participants, but in fact did nothing except try to force responsibility onto one another, fell in a single night. The players got paranoid and jumpy, and they slipped away without saying a word.

It was true that most players weren’t going to resort to violence, but in the same way, they had no intention of doing anything for anyone else. In other words, in this world, rather than suppressing conflict, individualism was useful only as a way to turn a blind eye.

To players like these, guilds had probably been nothing more than places that were convenient to use. It was simply that, since Elder Tales had been a game, the problem hadn’t been visible until now.

Some guilds had been peaceful and had adopted upright principles. However, even guilds like those restricted which players they would accept. Many players had been in shock over the Catastrophe, and their hands had been full just trying to protect their own safety and interests.

In essence, guilds were mutual aid organizations. But no guilds in Big Apple had been hospitable enough to support players who had zero intentions of aiding one another.

…Well, I mean, there was rioting.

After the 6.01 food riots and the subsequent public lynchings, Big Apple had become completely bloodthirsty. Leonardo had spent a long time hiding in the sewers, and the few companions he could really trust also left the city, one after another.

In the space of a few blinks, his beloved Big Apple had turned into a city of rejection and violence, populated by individualists with dull eyes.

Leonardo had finally made the decision to leave his hometown as well and had gone on a journey in search of a hiding place where he could lie low for a while. If he was leaving Big Apple anyway, he didn’t care how far he went. That said, jumping into a Fairy Ring that sent him to the opposite side of the globe had been a huge miscalculation…

“The cause of the Catastrophe… I can’t even begin to guess what that was,” Leonardo muttered, remembering his hometown.

If there was a cause, of course he wanted to know what it was. After all, if it was something understandable, he thought the people in his hometown probably wouldn’t have panicked so badly and lost all common sense.

However, as simple as the question was, he hadn’t been able to ask it. His instincts had told him that asking would mean getting involved with the mysteries of this world. He’d unconsciously shrunk down, thinking it would be too presumptuous for a regular citizen like himself to put that question into words.

As a result, Leonardo gazed at Kanami’s frankness, feeling dazzled.

“I don’t have many ideas about what would have caused a mess like this. I don’t know whether it’s the direct cause or not, but Homesteading the Noosphere strikes me as fishy.”

Elias nodded once, agreeing with Kanami. From the looks of it, the two had already discussed this.

That could be it, Leonardo admitted.

However, at the same time, it was nonsense.

The incident had happened on the third of May. The expansion pack had been scheduled to unlock on May 4.

In Elder Tales, expansion content was downloaded little by little, even during play, using the bandwidth available during the game: the “leeway” in the transmission speed. The Homesteading the Noosphere expansion pack had already been dormant on players’ computers around the world, but it was supposed to be unlocked on the day after that incident.

In other words, that data was still asleep.

True, it was odd that the date and time had been so close. However, since the data was still dormant, there was no way to test it. Since they’d been assimilated into the world of Elder Tales, they had no way to directly examine the data on their computers.

“Well… Yeah, true, the expansion pack seems suspicious. I know the Catastrophe hit right before Homesteading the Noosphere came through. There could be some connection. Still, even if there is, so what? …The fact of the matter is, the expansion pack hasn’t been implemented. In this world, there’s no way to examine something that hasn’t been installed, is there?”

Kanami was the one to answer Leonardo:

“That’s why we’re going to Japan!”

“Why? I don’t get it.”

“Japan is an eastern country.”

“Huh…?”

“It’s fourteen hours ahead of New York. In other words, the Japanese server is the only server in the world where Homesteading the Noosphere was implemented, and that’s where we’re going. If we do, at the very least, I think we’ll probably find some sort of clue.”

7

Fourteen hours. That was the time difference.

In regions that were farther east than New York, May 4 would have already arrived.

Right: the introduction date for Homesteading the Noosphere was May 4. Once his thoughts had taken him that far, Leonardo yelled in astonishment:

“The expansion pack’s been implemented in Japan?!”

“Yes, it has.”

The indistinct male voice startled Leonardo again.

When he looked at Elias, the other man shook his head as if he was startled, too. True, it probably hadn’t been him. Elias had a deep, carrying, “handsome guy” voice that suited his slender build and mild face. Even his voice had been designed for the female fans.

It wasn’t a mumbly voice like this one.

When Leonardo shot a tentative glance at Coppélia, she gazed back at him blankly with dark ultramarine eyes like polished turquoise. No matter how he thought about it, it couldn’t have been her.

“Kanami. This is a serious conversation. Quit with the weird voices.”

“And why exactly would I be talking like my nose was all plugged up, Croakanardo?”

“I’m not Croakanardo. I’m Leonardo.”

“Right, respect the original work.”

“You said it, pal. This frog suit is a hero’s… Who was that?!”

Leonardo had heard the low voice again, and when he looked over in the direction it came from, he saw a white horse.

“Oh. It’s the horse from earlier.”

The fact that a horse had spoken was strange to begin with, but Kanami’s easygoing tone made his surprise shrivel up as if she’d dashed cold water over it. It felt pointless to pay attention to her every single time.

“It’s your horse, Kanami. Right?”

“No, it isn’t. Didn’t you have it waiting to use in your escape, Croakanardo?”

“Nope.”

Even as he answered, Leonardo somehow managed to keep from retorting, You mean you got right onto a horse you thought somebody else had waiting and made that somebody run beside it?!

In any case, the sort of horses and other mounts that could be summoned with items were meant to be used as transportation. It took a set amount of time to summon them, and it really wasn’t something you wanted to do in the midst of battle.

Most midlevel Adventurers owned whistles that summoned horses. As a hard-core gamer, Leonardo even had a kelpie summoning pipe that he’d won in a raid, but this white horse wasn’t his style.

“And why is a white horse talking, anyway?”

“He is not a white horse. He is a hakutaku. From what Coppélia knows, they are traditional sacred beasts in China, believed to understand human language and have detailed knowledge of everything under the sun. In Elder Tales, they are classified as mystical beasts.”

“Bingo!”

“Ah. So you can talk because you understand human speech. I see. And you fell in love with me and came to save me—”

“Wrong!”

At that word from the white horse—the mystical beast hakutaku—Kanami looked put out.

The horse continued, “And anyway, why should a mystical beast have to waltz into the middle of a battle like that and rescue a girl Monk? I’m under no obligation to do any such thing. I’ve got no motive for it.”

“Are you sure?” she retorted. “If I saw one of those, I’d dive right in. They look like fun.”

It was Leonardo’s turn to scowl at Kanami. When he glanced to the side, Elias also looked tired. Apparently, he didn’t welcome everything about Kanami’s personality, either.

“Hmm. Well, I don’t have any horsey friends…,” she added.

“You turned into a Monk, Kanami,” the magical beast noted. “It’s been two years since we last met. It looks like your entire account is different. How’s life in England treating you? Is eel pie lethally nasty?”

“Boy, is it ever. Seriously, England’s brutal about stuff like that. Whoever said the only delicious thing in England is breakfast hit the nail right on the head. I’ve gotten really into doing my own cooking over the past two years. But if you want to know why the food’s bad, I think the water quality in England is iffy to begin with… And, um, who are you, Mr. Horse?”

“KR. Long time no see.”

“Huuuuh?!”

Kanami’s loud yell was sucked into the highland night, where the only other thing that howled was the wind. Elias, who’d been serenaded with that scream at point-blank range, twisted his expression—which was usually handsome—into a grimace like a Buddhist ascetic and muttered, “If he’s a friend, introduce us.”

In spite of himself, Leonardo laughed quietly. You’re wrecking your looks, buddy.

“Um, KR is…”

“I’ll tell ’em myself. If I let Kanami handle this, she’ll turn it into a cheap play instead of an introduction.”

“You’re a meanie, KR.”

Apparently, Kanami and this mystical beast were old friends.

“I’m KR. You can’t tell from the name, but I’m Japanese. I was friends with Kanami here back when she lived in Japan. Up until two years ago, she acted as the leader of a certain play group and flustered the bejeebers out of us.”

“She sounds like kind of a pain.”

Her excellent hearing seemed to have caught Leonardo’s murmured verbal jab.

“Oh, who cares? It was fun, and they were all good kids.”

“Well, Kanami was the leader of that play group, and I was one of the members.”

“I see, I see. So you helped Kanami out on a daily basis, KR.”

“No, I thought it was funny, and I went along with her and made the messes worse.”

Would you listen to this horse?!

The creature that looked like a white horse had come closer to the fire; it made a low whuffling noise, then lowered its long neck and nuzzled up to Coppélia. There was a third eye in its forehead, and its hind legs were covered in luxurious fur. It was a fantastic animal that only resembled a white horse.

“Hey! KR! Quit harassing her!”

“I’m not harassing her. We’re communicating. Besides, I want some water, too. You could have a little consideration, you know.”

The words had been directed at Kanami, but Leonardo took his canteen out of his magic bag, hesitated a little, then poured it into a basin. The mystical beast who’d called himself KR thanked him and began to drink.

“Still, in that case, you’re an Adventurer, Sir KR? That shape…”

“Maybe the Catastrophe turned everyone on the Japanese server into animals, and now the place looks like a safari park?!”

Kanami looked terribly happy, as if stars were about to start falling from her eyes, but Leonardo thought, Yeah, right. There’s no way.

He was starting to understand this Kanami woman.

In exchange for holding in the comeback, he directed a question at KR.

“So, KR, you’re a…Summoner?”

“Correct. Hey, Kanami, did you notice? We’ve got somebody clever here.”

“Hmm! Croakanardo is clever? Cute on top of being clever?! Bweh-heh-heh! I got myself a bargain.”

Leonardo glared at Kanami reproachfully, but it didn’t seem to get through to her at all. In the first place, KR had been saying “You’re dumb, Kanami” in a roundabout way, but even the sarcasm seemed to have gone over her head.

“Can Summoners take animal shapes? I’d heard that type of sorcery was a secret technique of the fairy tribe, but—”

“Nah, that’s not it. This is probably Soul Possession.”

KR gave a low whinny, as if agreeing with Leonardo’s comment.

“Exactly. It’s Soul Possession. In other words, this hakutaku is a mystical beast I summoned myself.”

“So what’s this ‘Soul Possession’ business?” Kanami sounded puzzled, so Leonardo began to explain.

“Uh, well… Soul Possession is a Summoner special skill. I don’t know much about it, either, but when this was Elder Tales, I’m pretty sure it was a spell that let you swap control with a summoned pet.”

In Elder Tales, being able to call servant entities wasn’t a particularly rare gimmick. Naturally, Summoners were the top authorities when it came to this skill, but if you weren’t picky about variations or abilities, almost all the Recovery and Magic Attack classes could summon beings of some sort.

A typical example was Bug Light, an area-illuminating spell that all Recovery classes learned. Strictly speaking, it was a summoning spell: It called upon mystical fireflies that gave off a faint light.

The world was believed to hold several thousand diverse varieties of special summoning skills, including types that were item activated. Even Leonardo, who was a veteran player, didn’t have a clear idea of the whole picture.

There was also a way to classify those countless summoning techniques by whether they could be controlled.

For example, once the previously mentioned Bug Light was summoned, all it did was float near the caster, illuminating the area, until it was released or the effect time ran out. It wasn’t possible to control it, and it wasn’t likely to be put to practical use.

On the other hand, some summoned creatures were completely controllable.

One example was the Summoner’s servant. A summoned mystical beast—a Salamander, for example—was able to take orders to attack, defend, or move from its caster. In other words, it could be controlled by the caster’s orders.

In the Elder Tales game, this element of control had been handled by giving orders to summoned creatures.

However, there hadn’t been many order types. Attack, defend, prioritize recovery, move, follow me, stay there, and guard the area—that was about all of them. Even if, hypothetically, the summoned creature had had lots of special attack skills, the decision of which skill to use had been left to the creature’s AI, and the AI’s capabilities certainly hadn’t been high.

That was what the situation had been like. However, Summoners’ Soul Possession spell had allowed them to control a summoned creature in its entirety.

When a player used Soul Possession, their control screen changed to the perspective of the mystical beast that had been targeted by the spell. The ability values that were displayed belonged to the beast, and it became possible to select its special skills using icons, the same way the player had done as an Adventurer.

Of course, most mystical beasts didn’t have them, but it was even possible to display equipment and item screens and to speak using the beast’s mouth.

As the skill’s name indicated, you possessed a mystical beast. The spell had some interesting special characteristics, but it also had a big disadvantage: The body of the one who’d conducted the possession—in other words, the Summoner’s own body—could now be controlled with simple orders, like a summoned creature, by the possessed mystical beast.

In short, you could say it was a spell that took a caster and a summoned creature and switched their control methods.

Generally speaking, the Adventurer-Summoner had all sorts of special skills that were far more adaptable than the summoned creature’s handful of skills. In addition, when you compared the servant mystical beast and its summoner, the Adventurer, it was clear which one was more important.

On top of that, Soul Possession took a long time to cast and a long time to release. If a sudden crisis came up, the Adventurer couldn’t return to their body quickly.

As a result, during the days of Elder Tales, the Soul Possession spell had been treated as a special skill that was “interesting enough, but mostly just a joke.”

“Oho. Oho!”

After listening to Leonardo’s explanation, Kanami nodded. The nodding seemed to be because she was convinced, not because she was sleepy, so Leonardo deemed it a win. He couldn’t take responsibility for the question of how much she’d actually understood, but at this point, as long as she didn’t yank the conversation around, he wasn’t going to sweat the small stuff. To a certain extent, good code masters let their audiences’ reactions slide.

“In other words, you haven’t turned into a horsey, KR.”

“Of course not.”

“So is this white, silky horse a Thoroughbred fraud?!”

“What are you talking about, Kanami? Are you maybe—no, are you actually an idiot?”

“Eh-heh-heh-hehhh.”

“Why are you acting all moonstruck? It’s creepy.”

“Well, I ran into an old friend, and I’m pretty happy about it.”

Watching the two joke around with each other—Is that right? It certainly is, yes indeed—Leonardo shrugged.

In the first place, Thoroughbred racehorses were considered living works of art. The velvety coat was noble, and it wasn’t as if he didn’t understand the urge to touch it… But the way Kanami moved her hands toward KR was creepy, abnormal, and just wrong.

“Then where are you, Mr. KR?”

Coppélia had been silent up until now, but when her sweet voice spoke, KR answered.

“In Japan. Of course. We didn’t think about it when this was a game, but apparently distance doesn’t affect how this special skill works.”

“Whoa, hold it, is your actual body okay? Soul Possession is a gag spell that leaves you unprotected, remember?!”

“Never fear. I’m on vacation in a guarded house that’s hidden deep in the woods and very hard to find. That said, I haven’t actually been back there in over two months.”

“I see… So that’s how you’re using it.”

Now that he thought about it, it was an excellent idea.

Since Elder Tales was a game, movement had been restricted to the control screen. However, after the Catastrophe, they’d probably gained more freedom. KR had doubtless made clever use of that to get his own hideaway and guard. It was possible that KR’s friends were taking care of his actual body for him.

After all, as long as you resolved the problem of your own body, Soul Possession was a special skill with a wide range of applications.

“Well, never mind about me. It’s true that Homesteading the Noosphere has already been implemented on the Japanese server.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. As proof, several Adventurers on that server have already hit level 91.”

Level 91.

That was definite proof.

For close to two years now, the level maximum in Elder Tales had been 90, but there had been an announcement that it would be increased with the new expansion pack, Homesteading the Noosphere.

“So are there new dungeons? New quests or monsters, new items? Or actually, are there any hints about how to clear up this mess?”

After he’d practically yelled those questions, Leonardo was surprised by the sharpness in his own voice. Am I really this starved for information? Do I think the situation is unfair?

It was enough to make him aware of these things all over again.

“I’ll only answer the stuff I can answer, but… That’s right— Mind if I call you Leonardo?”

“That’s fine. Call me whatever you want. And? How’re things?”

As Kanami, Elias, and Coppélia watched, Leonardo stood up and walked over to the white mystical beast. In the wilderness night, below a sky of twinkling stars, the orange campfire snapped loudly.

“I possessed this mystical beast and crossed to the continent in order to gather information. I figured that Specs or the Captain or somebody would pick up on anything in-country, even if I did nothing; that’s why I prioritized the areas overseas. I hit shore on the Korean server, circled around from the Chinese server to the Russian server, then headed south and back to the Chinese server. I went all over the place in two months.”

“…”

“The world’s in horrible shape. Seriously wasted. Of course, every place has people who are trying to maintain order. However, I found out there are also lots of people who aren’t doing that. Even in areas where the Adventurers aren’t plotting something heinous, they’re working desperately just to survive. The Adventurers have abandoned most People of the Earth. They think the world is on a fast track to destruction and walk around looking gray.”

“!”

“I’ve heard rumors—lots of ’em. Right now, though, I know nothing about new quests or dungeons. It’s all vague. Nobody knows anything specific. What little intel there is melts into delusions and vanishes. There aren’t any bulletin boards that discuss solutions, and there aren’t any wikis. Adventurers are astoundingly hopeless. Over these two months, I learned that real well. It may be half-sized, but the world is big. I didn’t think we’d be this useless without the Web. To put it bluntly, right now, Adventurers are just blockheads. Without information support, modern people are good for absolutely nothing.”